Place Your Bets
by scarlet-zombie-massacre
Summary: Irvin doesn't have time for these childish games, if Rivialle wants to make friends by being a punk so be it. Gambling may not be the best way to solve a mans problems, but if it gets them to shut up and leave his office, Irvin's has no qualms with it. However, when the bet turns sour and Rivialle is forced into a school girl uniform, Irvin thinks gambling may be acceptable.


_**AN: This is my first time writing smut so please do not be too harsh, I try I try. A little OOC since this is taking place only a few weeks after Rivialle was found by Irvin and joined the Corps and most of that time is mere speculation so don't judge me son, I do my best. **_

_**Big thanks to Homicidal Whispers for not only editing this, but inspiring me to write it (hence that little bum hole part hehe). Hope you all like this, perhaps I'll do some more, I mean, how can one resist the pervert Irvin?**_

* * *

_She don't like slavery,_

_She wont sit and beg._

_But when I'm sad and lonely._

_She gives me head..(I said)_

_I'll set you free, watch it to me, babe._

_I'll set you free,_

_I need you here by me, because_

_In the midnight hour,_

_She cried more, with a rebel yell,_

_She cried more more more._

_Rebel Yell- Black Veil Brides_

Something was not right. Irvin had never felt this put off before; even when faced against the titans he was able to remain calm and collected.

_ Remain calm,_ Irvin instructed himself, _it is only a misguided bet. If Rivaille wants to make friends this way, let him, it's nothing to get worked up about._

It was beyond obvious that each man who had placed the bet against his new trainee only wanted to degrade and humiliate the fresh soldier; and with Rivaille not having much – or any – social skills, fell directly into their trap. Irvin stoically wiped his sweaty palms across his thighs, never breaking eye contact with the herd of men taunting Rivaille with words that seemed to enter one ear and exit right out the next, amusement and malice quickly filling the air.

The bet was extremely one-sided once you thought about it; how did Rivaille possibly expect to be able to find and label every part of the barracks, including the training grounds, when he himself had only spent but a few days within them? At best, it had been perhaps a few weeks.

The man's ego was clearly enormous, to so willingly take up the proposition. However, the hasty approval of the task only angered the other soldiers, to the point that Irvin was positive he would be forced to intervene. Yet, he finds himself in the present situation, unsure that he was still willing to get involved.

"Oi, Rivaille!" called the rough voice of the man entering his room – without knocking Irvin noted.

Looking up from his report concerning the events of the recent titan attack, Irvin studied the three or so men filling his doorway. Rivaille, who had been watching Irvin fill out his report, claiming to have nothing better to do, placed his tea on the table, his eyebrow visibly twitching from irritation. Irvin sighed and rubbed his temples; this was the third time this week Rivaille had been the center of attention amongst his peers. These men were not from Irvin's own platoon, seeing as those were the only people besides himself that could even tolerate the former thug.

He opted to let the men sort out the predicament on their own, deciding it would be a grand opportunity to see how Rivaille interacted with people other than himself. Not that Irvin blamed them: Rivaille did not have the best personality. In fact, he was one of the most difficult men Irvin had the honor of working with, and that was saying something, considering he primarily dealt with the board of directors and government officials.

If he was not beating some poor soul who was willing to spar with him, he was talking about shitting, and if he was not talking about taking a shit he was simply not speaking at all. Irvin thought that it must be due to the fact he was raised in the streets, surviving off the filth of the underworld. It was only natural that the boy had some screws loose.

"Knew I would find your smug little ass in here." The man who burst through Irvin's door just moments ago took front and center as the leader of the pack.

"The fuck you want, pissface?" Rivaille turned in his chair, muscles tensing, ready for a fight.

"Classy as usual, I see." The rest of the group snickered at the comment, while the ring leader crossed his arms against his chest arrogantly, trying to assert his dominance. A futile attempt, seeing as both Irvin and Rivaille could easily wipe the floor with the cadet in a matter of mere seconds. It would be a lie to say it wasn't amusing.

"I'm sure you didn't bring your stinky mug around simply to compliment my attitude. If you are looking for a fight, you had better take a nice shit first; it would be embarrassing to have your bowels released after a few blows, like last time."

The man turned three different shades of red before firmly setting on a dark tint with a sneer to accent it, making Irvin question whether or not Rivaille's claim had any truth behind it. Irvin knew he fought dirty, firsthand experience taught him that much. But physically inducing a bowel moment simply could not be possible. If that was true, he was sure that another session of human decency needed to be drilled into the thug.

As if sensing the commander'sinner monologue, he rushed Rivaille, placing two large and hairy hands around his collar, practically lifting the smaller man off the chair. Rivaille, just as quick to react, placed one hand on the back of the chair with the other on the attackers shoulder, knee positioned to slam against the unprotected ribcage.

Irvin sighed, standing up from his chair that was only a few feet away from the quarreling duo, even on his relaxed days he was not permitted to relax.

"Now, now gentlemen," Irvin said as he stepped between them, placing one of his hands on each mans arm, "I am sure this argument could be solved with means other than violence."

Rivaille retracted his own hands, however, kept his knee in the previous offensive position. Irvin noted once more that discipline was just another thing he needed to add onto the list of teaching the newly recruited scout. As if only just taking notice to the commander's presence, the man took a few steps back and saluted his higher ranking officer, lackeys following in suit.

"What do you mean, Irvin?" Rivaille questioned, sitting back into his chair and crossing his legs, eyes now daggers. Keeping his temper was another thing Irvin discovered the black haired man had issues with.

"If there is something going on between the both you, I am sure it can be solved without the use of violence." Irvin walked back toward his seat, all the while keeping eye contact with the ticking time bomb that has resorted to bouncing his leg up and down, arms firmly crossed, a dark scowl plastered across his features. Rivaille was so easy to anger, it was almost cute.

"Oh yeah?" the petite ball of frustration spit out, "If this sick fuck gets his kicks from having his ass whopped, who am I to deny him?"

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking about, rookie?!" The man had once again invaded Rivaille's space, raising his voice and taking on that now familiar shade of red.

"Is there anyone else I could be referring too? Considering your pack of dogs have no balls, it is clear that you are the only one whose bark is louder than your bite. I bet you all get together like animals and they all take turns letting you work them over, like the disgusting bitches they are."

Each man gaped at the statement, rage and confusing slowly spread through the crowd. Rivaille took a sip of his tea, satisfied with the discomfort he had created. The comment itself, however, was not surprising since Rivaille was known to resort back to his street language once irritated. Just another one his personality quirks that Irvin was forced to put up with, more often than he would like to admit.

"You think you are so much fucking better than us, don't you, little man?" He had to bend over to get one eye-level with the five inches shorter man, breathing in his air, exhaling it right back in his face.

"I do not think so. It is a fact." And with that, Rivaille seemed to have reached a breaking point; he stood up from his chair, sending it flying to the ground, one of the bystanders flinching at the reaction.

"Why don't you fucking prove it, you cocky piece of shit?" With tension rising, Irvin was sure that this outburst would only lead to one conclusion. Feeling as though this confrontation was being drawn out for too long, Irvin decided it was time to end it, in the hopes that he could get some work done before the day was over.

"How about we settle this, gentlemen?" Both men looked toward Irvin as a plan slowly devised itself in the back of his mind. "Want to prove who is the best, eh? Well I'm sure some healthy competition could decide this, no?"

And as if a light bulb had been set off within the other man, he backed up, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

"Brilliant idea, captain. In fact, since Rivaille seems to know so much more than the rest of us, why don't we test his knowledge?" Rivaille quirked an eyebrow at the statement, remaining silent as permission to continue. "How long have you been here? About two weeks, or something along those lines? How about me and my boys draw a map of the area and if you can correctly identify each location we'll leave you alone."

With no hesitation, Rivaille agreed to the game, giving the men a look as if he regarded them as fools, like he had been granted a task that was beyond easy.

"However, if you cannot, you've got to wear this for the entire day." One of the soldiers standing in the back came forward, revealing an ancient navy-blue sailor uniform, complete with a white tie and tattered hems, a result of long time storage.

The thought of putting on a skirt did not seem to deflate Rivaille's conviction and, yet again, he quickly agreed to their terms and conditions. The man who held the skirt nearly split his face from grinning as the original perpetratordrew up a map of their surroundings.

The thought of Rivaille in a skirt made Irvin's throat dry and his legs itch. Sure, he was attractive; ever since Irvin had set his eyes upon the skilled titan hunter, he had more than once dreamed of bending that small rear over and showing him which of them was boss. The shorter man practically emanated defiance and superiority, and Irvin couldn't tell if that was another one of the side effects of growing up in the slums or if was simply molded into his being.

Either way, it only added fuel to the fire of his unyielding desire to force the oblivious man into bending tohis will. In fact, since the challenged had been proposed, nonstop adrenaline had been running through his veins with the anticipation of the outcome lingering in the air. Irvin was almost positive he was not going to be completing that report today.

It appeared as though Rivaille was almost done labeling the map the men had drawn up, Each of their passive features now replaced with a smug expression of victory and excitement. He had lost, that much was certain, and yet, that calm look of composure not once left his face. Irvin couldn't resist the smirk forming across his lips; even in the face of defeat, he never even considered the possibility of losing, confidence radiating from his retinas while his small hands quickly wrote here and there, eyes intensively following as he moved along the map.

This was one of his traits Irvin took pleasure in the most. He refused to give up until the very end, even if it is an impossible task, the cocky man will still take it on with everything he's got, not taking no for answer.

Another reason why Irvin would oh so love to watch that boy beg and cry to let him cum, screaming his name. Only after he pleaded with everything he had would Irvin give him what he oh so desperately wanted; pounding that small figure into another dimension. Irvin found himself rubbing along his thighs once more, the room seeming to increase in temperature as he did so. This sure as hell wasn't the first time Irvin had had perverted thoughts of the younger boy. From the moment he gazed, awestruck and paralyzed, at Rivaille defeating three titans at once on his very first use of the 3D maneuver gear, these lewd thoughts had never really left his mind.

Normally, however, the urge to dominate him in every way possible only came to him after a spar session, when Rivaille's ego reached what he could only assume was the maximum level: sweat dripping down the side of his face, the look ofsmugness cast over his usual menacing eyes, toweling off the remaining sweat from his toned, hairless chest.

Even when Irvin didn't participate in the matches, he always needs to take a cold shower afterward; touching himself to the vision of the sweaty disheveled subordinate, envisioning him groaning Irvin's name over and over again like the good toy he is. Irvin would release his load onto the wall and all over his hand, watching the evidence of his unrequited fantasies go down the drain, setting his head against the cold tile of the shower wall, in a attempt to regain his composure.

Luckily for him, higher ranking officers received their own living quarters, so he was able to jerk off to the vision any time the urge rushed him. It was more often than Irvin was willing to admit.

The blonde took a deep breath, noticing his hands slightly shake at the pleasant memory. He could hear derogatory shouts and whistles, reminding Irvin of his present surroundings and allowing him to refocus on the situation. Rivaille had indeed put the uniform on, all the while keeping his usual stoic uncaring expression, as if he wasn't even wearing the revealing outfit.. Despite Irvin's shallow breathing exercise he performed moments ago in order to keep his composure, his eyes widened at the sight, pulse beginning to race again as he examined the view.

Rivaille's legs were surprising thick for his short stature, also hairless like his chest and arms. The top didn't seem to appreciate his incredibly toned and broad shoulders, as it was very tight around his neck line and inner arm region; it diddn't even completely cover the man's torso, his abs and belly button exposed for the entire world to see.

The skirt was no longer, barely draping over his thighs, the fabric rubbing against them in seductively with each moment he made. Irvin was sure he was going to have aneurysm at this rate. The sound of his own heart pounding engulfed his mind and body, every part of him dying to move, dying to touch. His brain was set on overdrive, numerous visions of Rivaille dancing, stripping, teasing, and pleading clouding his eyesight. If looks could kill, Irvin was positive that Rivaille had the ability to do so.

"You sick bastards satisfied?" Rivaille said, completely monotone and irritated as per usual. Howls of laughter filled the room, the tension from earlier erased entirely.

"Us, sick? Says the man in a mini skirt and tube top! If it wasn't for that nasty look in your eye, you would make one hell of a woman." Laughter erupted once more, some of the guys pointing and patting one another on the back.

"I never go back on my word." With that, the laughter and rude comments ceased, a look of respecttransforming the men's faces.

"You know, you're pretty alright, little man." Rivaille's eyebrow twitched much similar in the way it had earlier, however he did not act this time and each man congratulated him for his honor; patting him on the back. They took their leave, snickering here and there along the way.

The sound of the door shutting once again reminded Irvin of the undeniable reality and he cleared his throat, causing Rivaille to turn around and make eye-contact. Something foreign flashed across Rivaille's eyes and he looked away, shuffling where he stood, the fabric around his shoulders refuting the movement, his skirt rising ever so slightly to reveal more of those creamy thighs. The room was quiet, and the sound of his heart beat once againflooded Irvin's ears. The impulse to move rose through his limbs.

"It suits you, you know." Irvin said. It was more of a statement than reassurance, leaving no room to deny the comment. Rivaille began walking back toward his chair, not bothering to make eye contact with Irvin all the way. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, Irvin was absolutely sure that the half-naked man before him was blushing. Irvin had finally reached his breaking point, fisting into the cotton on his thighs as he tried to will away his oncoming erection. It wasn't working. At all.

"I bet you get off on this sick thing," Rivaille scoffed, crossing his legs, revealing a small part of his perfectly sculptured backside with no shame whatsoever.

"Perhaps," Irvin retorted, Rivaille jerked his head toward Irvin, returning the eye contact from before at the confession. The blush Irvin had thought he saw there earlier, was most certainly there now.

_ Screw composure_, Irvin thought, rising up from his own chair, his erection painfully rubbing painfully against the tight confinement of his jeans. At this point, he didn't even care that it was visible as he jumped the tiny, defenseless, basically nude man before him. He slammed lips against Rivaille's, hard enough that their teeth smashed together painfully.

Irvin shoved Rivaille's legs apart, bringing their bodies closer closer, desperate for more contact and willing to momentarily breaking the kiss to achieve that goal. Rivaille took the chance to catch his breath, shallow and quick. He gazed up at Irvin like a deer caught in headlights, but not refusing the advances fromthe stockier man.

Using this opportunity, Irvin placed his mouth back against Rivaille's, his tongue running along the bottom of his lip, pleading for entrance**. **Rivaille allowed him in and he quickly began invading every part of his mouth, earning a soft groan from the back of the smaller man's throat. The sound went straight to Irvin's dick.

Irvin ran his tongue across the roof of his mouth, taking his time to explore it in full detail, from the cheeks to the back of his straight teeth, biting a little harder than necessary on Rivaille's lip. Small droplets of blood beginning to trickle down his chin. Irvin could taste the iron but didn't stop to ask if he was okay, digging into his shoulders almost painfully to reassure himself that it was indeed okay to continue. Now it was Irvin's turn to moan as Rivaille readjusted himself, knees rising and resting alongside the taller man's sides, giving him full access to every part of his body.

Irvin grinded against Rivaille, grateful for the increased contact, and felt what could only be Rivaille's cock, hard against his own. Irvin felt his eyes roll into the back of his head as the realization hit that the smaller man wasn't wearing any undergarments.

His suspicions were confirmed when he glanced down and spotted Rivaille's own cock against his stomach, straining against the. It was unbelievable that such a small piece of cotton was still able to cover up the impressive length. Sure, Rivaille was lacking in height, but he was obviously was not lacking anywhere else.

"You like this don't you?" Irvin breathed, regretfully breaking what was turning into a full blown make-out session, his hand going just above the head of the other man's penis. Rivaille sighed at the contact, still managing to throw his usual set of daggers toward Irvin.

"I'm no disgusting pervert like you."

"I'm sure your dick would disagree, I haven't even touched you yet and you're already so hard," Irvin circled the head of his cock lightly, the navy blue skirt starting to take a dark tint as it was doused with pre-cum.

"Then fucking touch me already," Rivaille panted, eyes glossed over with lust, yet still keeping their all natural defiant shine.

"Good boys deserve it," Irvin whispered into Rivaille's ear, licking along the side of his ear lobe, sucking along the bottom.. Rivaille was practically thrusting into his hand, trying to get Irvin to take a firmer grip on his dick, muttering profane words with each slight rock of the hips.

"But you're no good boy..." Irvin could see the utter disappointment spread across Rivaille's face as his words settled into his brain. "... And bad boys need to earn it."

With that, Irvin picked the smaller man up and threw him against the table, skirt rising just above the peak of Rivaille's ass at the action giving him a full view of what he was not doing a good job of hiding.

"The fuck do you think you're doing, you piece of shi-" Rivaille's words were cut off to be replaced with more moans, knuckles nearly going white as his gripped the tables edges. Irvin had spread his soft cheeks apart and was now sliding his tongue up Rivaille's taint, slowly making his way toward his entrance.

Wanting to tease the excited man, Irvin licked around his entrance, blowing soft air kisses here and there, Rivaille's chest now fully on top of the wooden table. Rivaille's legs began to quake as Irvin slide his tongue into hishole, lapping and lapping at the hot area over and over again until he was sure Rivaille was going to drop. Rivaille seemed to be a quiet lover, making this all the more fun for Irvin, who was determined to break him.

Irvin knew he hit the jackpot when Rivaille clenched up and let out an exasperated sigh of pleasure, one of his hands heading toward his now full length. He let out an audible whine when Irvin removed his tongue and slapped away his hand.

"Did I not say that you would have to work for it?" Irvin warned, using his free hand to pin Rivaille's above his head, lifting him higher up on the table and spreading his luscious cheeks apart even more. Irvin's dick was painfully hard, making each movement he made extremely difficult. He was going to fuck Rivaille, that much was for certain, but not before he had some fun with him first

"Are you shitting me? If you are not going to touch me, at least let me fucking touch myself," Rivaille growled, a note of desperation in his voice.

"Only if you beg me," Irvin replied, not bothering to hide his smirk as he entered one digit into his tight entrance.

"Not... happening." Rivaille was starting to lose the smug edge in his voice, and Irvin was sure he had found heaven when he began twirling his finger around and Rivaille backed his ass into his twisting fingers.

"I thought you wanted me to touch you?" Irvin hummed, bringing his face back against Rivaille's ear, not stopping his stretching.

"I'm not... going to beg a dirty old man like you."

"Then I simply won't touch you." With that Irvin brought his face back to Rivaille's entrance, and continued his previous onslaught of the mewling man's rear end, tonguing all around and deep inside, while his fingers worked on pulling the smaller man open, giving him more area to taste.

"You like when it when I eat your pussy?" Irvin asked, his voice raspy with lust.

"You're fucking gross-_hnngh_..." Rivaille moaned against the table, hands beginning to shake where Irvin kept them upright. "I'm a man, you know."

"I know, but you're also a man in a skirt."

"Doesn't mean I magically developed a fuckin' pussy." Rivaille's speech patterns began to mimic the Rivaille he had found back on the street, and Irvin swore he was going to die in that instant.

"You sure? For all that bark, there 'aint much bite." Irvin's finger rubbed against the younger man's prostate, causing Rivaille to moan and slid his ass down against Irvin's fingers, now knuckle deep within him. He repeated this action again and again, Rivaille's moans growing in louder with each flick of the wrist, his back arching along with his movements.

Irvin's pants were now damp with pre-cum and if it was possible for someone's dick to fall off from sheer neglect, Irvin was sure it would have happened long ago. He was nearing his breaking point; he needed Rivaille to say he wanted him now before he went savage and fucked the poor guy through the table top.

However, Irvin could be just as determined as Rivaille, and he refused to give in until the very last moment. Returning his mouth to the now perfectly stretched anus, he curled his tongue around once more to substitute for lube. In and out, in and around, Irvin repeated this process until his was dizzy in the head, all the blood flowing to his dick, which was crying to be pleased, much like Rivaille's; his moans were so loud he was knew anyone walking past would hear them, giving him the extra thrill of being caught in the act.

"P-please... please." Rivaille's whispered, head resting on the table, hair sprawled out around his gorgeously moist face.

"I'm begging... _ah_... please fucking _touch_ me." Rivaille's voice cracked with his last word, lifting his head off the desk, the look of utter defeat plastered across his face.

Irvin didn't need to be told twice. The sight of Rivaille's defeated and helpless face made him hard all over again, and he quickly worked his belt and zipper open, finally releasing the pressure from his cock, now dripping pre-cum and a lovely shade of pink.

He turned Rivaille around and positioned himself at his entrance, the head of his penis ever so softly pushing in. Irvin made a sound at the back of his throat and thought he was going to cum right then and there, but remembered that he had work to do. He did not want to have suffered this long for nothing.

"Say it." Irvin commanded, releasing Rivaille from his grip and dragging his hand down toward his nipples, pointing upwards against the thin fabric of his top. His own erection caused the skirt to rise, draping over the sides of his thighs and stomach region. Irvin worked one of the erect nipples, twisting and tugging as he racked his teeth along the side of his jaw line and collarbone, stopping to suck here and there. Rivaille let out another sigh and put his arm over his eyes. Irvin felt his dick twitch when he pulled a little too hard on Rivaille's nipple, earning a deep groan from him. He smiled at the hickeys that were now forming along his collarbone and shoulders.

"... Please, I'm begging you... please_ fuck me_." It was a weak request made from the dark haired boy, barely audible, but Irvin heard it nonetheless.

"Look at me when you say it." Irvin moved his hands away from his nipples and placed them on his cock, Rivaille's arms shot up and braced Irvin's shoulders, and he slowly went up and downon his erection, waiting for an answer.

"Irvin.._ ahhng._... Irvin, please fuck me right now."

Irvin genuinely smiled, taking in the beautiful picture below him. Rivaille was staring straight at him, a slight pink covering his cheeks, desperation and lust clouding over his usually stoic and annoyed eyes. Mouth ajar, where he let quick shallow breaths escape, chest rising and falling in unison; his cock resting against his toned stomach, pre-cum dripping around the head; his legs rested against Irvin's ribcage and sides; his ass in the air with his own throbbing cock positioned right at the entrance, ready to be inside him.

This is what Irvin wanted, a broken, needy man calling out his name, needing him and only him to guide him in the right direction. Irvin didn't need to say anymore. He slid fully inside of Rivaille, his vision going white from the pure pleasure.

Rivaille's nails dug into his shoulder, and his breathing picked up. Irvin stood stunned at the sheer amazingness that was Rivaille. He was hot and tight, _so fucking tight,_ and Irvin wasn't even sure he wanted to move; he'd be content to simply stay like this forever.

"Move, asshole," Rivaille demanded and Irvin felt the deep need inside his stomach and began thrusting. Moments ago Irvin was sure he had just found the best thing in the world, but he was wrong. Sliding in and out of Rivaille was much more fulfilling than simply being inside him.

Irvin placed both hands on Rivaille's thighs to even out his movements and Rivaille leaned into the adjustment, hips shifting along with his hands. Just then, Irvin hit Rivaille's prostate with a hard thrust, Rivaille screamed louder than Irvin had ever heard. Both of Rivaille's hands now clawing down his shoulder blades and back, Irvin knew there were going to be marks left on him and he loved every minute of it.

Sighs and moans filled the room, each man lost in the ecstasy that was the other, the sound of flesh upon flesh loud enough to rival the moans coming from the men. A hot tingling sensation filled Irvin's lower stomach and he knew he was close.

He placed his hand on Rivaille's neglected cock and began stroking, the man getting even louder than before. This was much better than Irvin could have ever hypothesized. The heat from inside his stomach intensified with each movement, and Irvin knew he was going to cum.

Rivaille leaned off the table laying his head in the crook of Irvin's neck and shoulder, embracing him in a death grip and beginning to feverishly call out Irvin's name. Reaching his breaking point, Irvin thrusted once more and brutally came into his abused ass, cum sliding down his shaft and around the Rivaille's cheeks. After a few more strokes from Irvin's experienced hand, Rivaille also came all over Irvin's shirt, hand, and his own stomach; dick beginning to go limp within his steady grasp.

For a few moments both men remained in their position, interlocked with one another, catching their breath. Irvin was still a little shocked this was reality, and not another one of his wet dreams. The commanding tone returned to Rivaille's voice though, assuring him that this was surely real.

"Aren't you going to remove your dick from my ass?" Rivaille questioned, irritation and smugness now back in full spring in his voice. His eyes had also once again, taken on that defiant glimmer, and Irvin thought that it really was the best thing about the guy.

Besides the mind-blowing sex of course. Irvin did as asked, and slid out Rivaille's ass, left over cum traveling the length of his now limp member and sliding down the exposed man's thigh.

"Fucking disgusting," Rivaille noted and hopped right off the table while Irvin worked on putting his dick away and pulling up his pants. Rivaille hobbled his way toward the bathroom, which was not unexpected since the man was clean freak, even though shitting was his most referred and preferred topic of discussion. It was ironic, and another personality quirk of his that Irvin adored.

"Let me ask you a question," Irvin said as Rivaille opened the bathroom door. He didn't respond, but he stood in the door way waiting for the oncoming inquiry.

"Why weren't you wearing any underwear?" Irvin said, matter-of-fact. He looked up from his buckle to see Rivaille's once again stoic expression, and somewhere deep inside Irvin, felt incredibly happy to see it.

"Fuckin' skirt wouldn't stay down with them on." Rivaille walked into the bathroom, and closed the door, with no further conversation.

Irvin just stared at the spot where he had been, and when he heard the sound of running water he couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't sure just what exactly he had gotten himself into, but he was more than ready for whatever it was that would be thrown at him.


End file.
